Lost and Found
by TrickyFrog
Summary: Jack and Oz are feeling lost and find themselves within each other . . . Jack x Oz Please R&R.


Jack and Oz After visit to Sabrie and assuming everyone came out alive . . . I wrote this a while ago. Jun Mochizuki made them. I just make them dance.

Oz sat on the hotel bed, his legs curled up into himself, and his arms wrapped around them, fingers locked tightly together as though if he had no hand to hold onto, he would break. The window in the room was open, and the moon was full, shining a large rectangle of light that outlined the area around him. The Bezarius descendant looked up at the moon, which was so close the craters could be seen in it, and it seemed to encompass a third of the night sky. He remembered someone saying once to him that when the moon appeared too close, it was a bad omen.

Oz looked away and let his head rest on his knees. Bad omens meant nothing to him. He closed his eyes. No one had mentioned what had happened to him in Sabrie. No one said a word about his inherent skill at killing, about the scythe, about . . . Elliot and Reo never mentioned another word to him about it. His eyelids became tight, as if trying to force the memory out of his head.

_'I am Oz Bezarius. I'm not anyone else.' _He would have said it out loud if Alice hadn't of been asleep in the other bed. Maybe, out loud, it would sound more believable. He said the words again, this time in a whisper, "I am Oz Bezarius." He opened his eyes and stared absently at the place where the wall met with the floor. The fact that he wasn't really acting like himself didn't help the believability of the words, either.

Shutting his eyes again, he tried to return to the simplicity of the idea, but the truth was the idea was no longer so simple. Wasn't what happened in Sabrie even more reason to believe his existence was a sin? His body just moved on its own. On its own. It's not like Oz, the Oz he knew, the person he recognized as himself had ever used a scythe like that, had ever even held a scythe as a weapon like that in his life. If he wasn't himself, who else could he possibly be?!

Oz fell within himself.

'I am Oz Bezarius!' He shut his eyes tight and opened them again. He was no longer in the hotel room with the ill-omened moon. He recognized the empty darkness as the place where he had met Jack previously.

_'Why does Jack exist in such a dark place?'_

"Are you alright . . . Oz?" Jack's voice came from above him. Oz looked up to see Jack bent over him, a soft smile and concerned eyes looking down on him.

Surprised, Oz moved to stand up and face Jack directly. He smiled brightly, "Um, well yeah I-" Too bright.

Jack's expression changed, a little hurt, "You know you can't hide things from me Oz." The words dripped out of his mouth, landing on the boy one by one.

Oz looked up at Jack, their green eyes meeting. Pain was visible on Jack's face, and for some reason Oz couldn't let that pain go. It was true, he had caused it, but the sense of guilt that was boiling up inside him was too strong for it to be just that. Oz's expression dropped.

"Jack I-" Oz stopped mid-sentence as Jack's strong arms wrapped around him. The younger Bezarius felt color in his cheeks as his face met with the man's chest. Jack held him there a moment until his body trembled slightly, and he went to his knees slowly, his face now buried in the boy's shirt at his stomach. All of this was his fault. All of it. If it hadn't of been for him, Oz wouldn't have to suffer like this. What happened recently was taking its toll on both of them, neither one entirely ready for what lied ahead; no matter how hard they tried to convince themselves that they would make it.

Oz was speechless. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to seeing Jack like this. He wasn't used to feeling so lost like he had tonight. '_Maybe we're both lost . . . '_ It registered then, what he should do. Oz bent down as well and returned the embrace, Jack's head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Oz." Jack wanted to stay like that. Somehow, Oz's embrace was the most comforting thing in the world, even more comforting than Glenn's had once been.

Oz was surprised at how calm he felt. Jack's embrace was unlike anything he'd felt before. It was different from when he had held anyone else, but he couldn't place why. It was true, he had never hugged someone held to be dead necessarily, but that wasn't it. Here Oz could feel that human warmth from Jack. Here, Jack was as alive and real as he was. Without realizing it, Oz held the man tighter to him. Why was Jack sorry? Why was he always feeling so guilty towards him? Why did he exist in this dark place?

It didn't make any sense to Oz, but he knew, in this moment, the most comforting thing to him was comforting Jack. He pulled out of the embrace. Jack fell back awkwardly on his heels, wanting to maintain their shorter distance height wise.

"Why do you exist here, in this dark place . . . Jack?" Oz leaned in to the man, his left hand cupping the back of his head his fingers slipping into his golden hair that matched his own. Keeping his eyes away from Jack's own, Oz leaned in and kissed his neck lightly, sweetly, and with a shyness he didn't know he possessed. He wondered if the calm and relaxed feeling that came across him by committing such an action was the same that Jack was feeling by receiving it.

Jack's eyes faded away at the question, and it wasn't until he felt soft lips against the skin of his neck that he returned. Jack's mouth opened halfway in shock, both from Oz's actions themselves, and from the way he melted into the boy's touch so much so that in arching his back he lost his balance and fell backwards, Oz landing on top of him awkwardly and blushing madly. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? Oz suddenly wanted to take everything back, to escape, to run away. His chin had landed on the man's lower stomach, leaving his chest to feel Jack's crotch through his pants absently relieved it wasn't erect and blushing even further from the thought.

His ancestor noticed the almost panic that crossed his face. He wanted to remove those feelings from him. Didn't Oz feel as comfortable with him as he did with Oz?

"Oz . . ." The gentle love that came from that one word was more than Jack realized he had for the boy. Jack's left hand took Oz by the wrist and pulled him closer. On top of him now, the two could feel each other breathing, as their chests rose and fell together, quickly at first, then slowly as the two almost melded into one, rising and falling together.

_'What am I doing?'_ Although the question had returned it was far less intense or guilty. Now it seemed almost curious. The boy had been breathing just under Jack's right ear, his head resting on the man's strong left shoulder. Oz moved his head slightly, as if trying to bury it into Jack's warm flesh, but there was none there to feel, not though his jacket and blouse. Oz calmed down completely, the mad rush of blood to his head, gone. He wondered absently if he could sleep like this, to think it would be so much easier to fell asleep if there was someone there with him to keep him from his darker thoughts. He didn't like thinking about those things. He didn't like feeling helpless, or lost, or . . . . lonely.

Jack stayed where he was until Oz had calmed down. It had been . . . _cute_ . . . to see him like that, but at the same time that discomfort and panic in Oz's eyes were something Jack didn't want to see. He had caused Oz so much already; all he wanted to do now was bring him happiness. In this moment, in this place. Time was still ticking away, it was true, but the moment they were sharing right now was free from the worry of the future. If only Jack knew how to free himself from the past. The man felt the other Bezarius's breath hit his ear lobe evenly. It felt . . . stimulating, but he couldn't-wouldn't let himself see it that way. When Oz finally moved, though it was only his head slightly, Jack suddenly wanted to feel his skin on his own.

The truth was this was the first time. This was the first time in a little under a hundred years Jack had truly felt someone's embrace, their warmth, their kisses . . . Up until now, he had nothing to feel, even his own body began to forget what it meant to be touched or to touch others. Though the boy's arms laid on top of his own in a cross, Jack moved his hands above Oz, removing the white gloves he always wore, and, as he brought his arms behind his head, he dropped the gloves to the floor. Oz lifted himself up slightly, watching the gloves fall, and then relaxed back into Jack's body, only noticing now that Jack's heart had sped up a bit faster than his own. When Oz relaxed again, Jack took his hands in his, intertwining their fingers. The familiarity to his was shocking, but he didn't let it bother him. Oz's hands responded, his fingers locking them together. Oz would have thought their difference in hand sizes would have been more, but the truth was, it wasn't too far off. His hands were smaller, of course, but Jack's were not so foreign. All Oz could feel was kindness, and Jack's fingers let go and began to trace their way up his arm sliding the loose long sleeve white shirt out of their path. Oz's arms were so slender, but so warm. Oz didn't stop Jack. Somehow he knew not to. It wasn't that Jack was feeling him specifically; it was that he was feeling at all. There was a longing in Jack's touch that could only be recognized as loneliness.

Oz sat up on Jack's stomach. His eyes held a maturity in them he wasn't familiar with, but that he knew was his own, which what mattered most on a night like this. This man that everyone called "hero", never saw that of himself. The one that so many depended on and looked to for guidance, was still no more than this, he was still no more than human-like him. From somewhere inside him, Oz pulled up the courage to bring humanity back to his possessor.

Jack's hands stopped when his eyes met with Oz's own emerald orbs. For a moment, he was looking into a mirror, he was sure of it. It was only when his reflection moved that he realized he wasn't alone again. When Oz began to unbutton and slide off his vest, Jack realized what he was doing. He was the adult in the situation, right? He was the one who needed to take charge of the situation. This was too _bizarre_ . . . and only he realized that truth.

Before Oz could finish unbuttoning his collared shirt, Jack grabbed his wrists lightly, "Oz, please, think about this a moment I-"

Oz's look caught Jack in the middle of his sentence. "What?" Oz simply wanted to share his warmth with him, to remind him of what it was like to be human, to feel Jack's skin against his own . . . Suddenly it hit him. He looked down to Jack who was now blushing furiously, realizing that his mind was deep through the gutter and somewhere lost in the sewers while Oz's own was still above ground.

Oz had to laugh at this, his shirt sliding and hanging off one slender shoulder, much to Jack's attention.

Jack sat up so that Oz fell on his back between his long legs, still laughing. When he finally recovered he saw that Jack's coat lay underneath him, and his shirt was lying beside them. Oz didn't know what to think. Jack smiled almost mischievously. He was happy that Oz had laughed so much, but he also took it as a challenge. With Oz sat up between his long legs, and Oz's own legs resting on either side of his hips, Jack unbuttoned the last button on Oz's shirt and let it fall off at his feet. Jack knew what to do next.

He held the boy's body with his hands on his back and leaned in. The moment Jack's lips met his bare chest, Oz hardened. Shock ran through Oz, and he found it so stimulating he gasped. Jack could feel Oz's body respond and though a voice in his mind told him not to, he responded by moving his lips to the boy's own and holding them in a kiss.

The feeling that washed over them then they shared completely.

Oz was Jack's life support, tying him into this world of mistakes me must right with a hope only he could possess, and Jack was Oz's own, keeping him from losing himself completely in a world he didn't understand and guiding the way for him when he found himself lost.

Oz fell into Jack, causing him to fall on his back, their lips still locked only now their tongues dared entry into the other. _'This feeling, I've never been so sure that someone is here with me, that someone will always be here for me, not even with Gil have I-' _Oz felt Jack go hard as well, but it didn't bother him in the least like it may have before. If anything, he was glad he was able to arouse Jack in such a way, if only in means of gratitude than in means of . . . _love?_

Oz thought about the word as he broke away from Jack and began to nibble on his ear, much to Jack's pleasure since he moaned softly, surprised by the action. It wasn't really love, right? He wasn't in love with Jack, he was just, he was just . . . at peace with him. He stopped and looked up at the man whose eyes reflected his own. They were both breathing heavily, their most sensitive of areas now awkwardly together through their clothing.

Jack knew why Oz stopped, and sat up to get closer to him. They moved in unison, one sliding out from under and the other finding the floor to sit down on instead. Jack locked their hands together again, and on his knees, he let his forehead rest on Oz's chest. Both of them tried to calm their breathing, but their bodies wanted more, and were punishing them for their dissatisfaction.

" . . . Jack, I really . . . never have," Oz spoke between breaths," felt like this . . . with anyone."

"I haven't either." His voice was so honest and genuine, and from his response Oz knew that he had understood what he had meant.

"Only when I'm with you . . . do I understand . . . who I am." Jack felt hands in his hair, absently toying with his braid.

It took everything in Jack to not take Oz then. He didn't understand it. He didn't understand why Oz. He didn't understand why these kinds of feelings. He only understood that this was the most comfortable, most complete, and most safe place he had ever been in. Was it because of his death? Would he have felt this way had he met Oz when he was alive or-well-no . . . None of these questions made sense. The answer was clear to Jack, but he didn't want to accept it, even now, in this situation, was not the time to discuss it with Oz. How was Oz able to act so maturely in this situation when he wanted nothing more than to . . .

Their breathing calmed and Oz tugged on Jack's braid to pull his head up from his chest. With the boy still holding on to his braid, Jack embraced him once again.

That's when they both decided that was their favorite feeling, to receive warmth from the other, reassurance, stability. It wasn't love or lust they needed to share, but their strength. They could only do so much separately, but together, together like this; they were able to find themselves, and the strength they needed to protect the ones they loved.

There is an extended version (I call it the "Bonus Cake" version)that well . . . continues the scene in a more adult direction. I'm sure you understand. I'm unsure if I want to upload it as an "alternative ending" or not. *sigh* Any takers?


End file.
